Fishing Reports

The Royal Treatment crew felt a sense of pride last week as we kept at least 35-40 people away from the malls on Black Friday. Those hearty souls braved a threatening forecast only to find that you can't always believe the weather girl. We treated them to a delicious warm lunch, far too many sweet treats and a private lesson in Czech nymphing offered by our Fly Czar, Josh Linn. Oh, and there was plenty of fish caught too.

Gray skies dominated, but the forecast gale failed to materialize. Winds were light and variable most of the day, with the drizzle of rain not even drawing a notice from the gathering of Black Friday protestors. There was a little squall that moved through in the late afternoon, but even it was short lived. It was the perfect day to fish the Deschutes.

There were a few BWO flitting about, but most of the damage was done subsurface with a variety of nymphs. The resident Redsides fell prey to most of the jig-style baetis patterns offered with a Czech nymphing presentation. Josh's version of the GTI Caddis also proved its worth.

While the focus was on Trout, Mr. Skittles has been bumping into Steelhead on the swing and, dare I say it, while nymphing. Thankfully, only hatchery fish were duped by this method and Nick bonked one for the freezer with his rendition of the Squirmy Wormy. No, that pattern will not be featured as a Fly of the Week. You must ask him directly about that one.

Since I spent most of Black Friday in my riverside kitchen, I made a return on Monday to spend a little quality time with the river before the holiday madness consumes my calendar. I swung flies in a few of my favorite runs without success but did well in the Trout department with Josh's GTI and Mic Drop. As I write this report, I realize that a lot of Trout have come to hand over the last few months and I can't say I've cast my fly line outside of the rod tip except for that film thing I did. There must be something to this Czech/Euro thing.

If the weather cooperates, Trout fishing on the Deschutes, Metolius, and Crooked should hold up nicely. As mentioned there are also a few hatchery Steelhead that need to be retrieved from the Deschutes. Sink-tips and winter style patterns can tempt those leftovers into your freezer.

Closer to home, we are waiting for the arrival of our winter fish in the Clack and Sandy. A few encounters in the Clackamas have been spurred by the recent rains. Hopefully, that trend will continue.

Being able to take advantage of angling opportunities when they present themselves is important if you want to maximize your time on the water, especially with the changing weather patterns of fall. Wind and rain, or lack of it, can dictate where you find your best chance of success. You might have to travel, but somewhere out there the fishing is good.

Having the best shop guys in the business allows me some flexibility when the chance comes to wet a line outside of my normal territory and I have been known to take off at a moment's notice. A simple "Don't burn the place down" over my shoulder while walking out the door is pretty much the only direction the A-team needs from me. Such is the case this past weekend when the chance came up to fish the Klamath in Northern California with my friend, Jason.

Some of you may know my buddy Jason from his film "A River Between Us" about the water wars on the Klamath River. The Klamath runs in Jason's blood and his love for the river stems from his family history on this fabled stream. His passion for the wild Steelhead that call the river home is contagious and I never miss the chance to spend a few days at Upsondowns, drifting the river and swinging flies with my adopted brother.

Upsondowns is the Atkinson family retreat on the Klamath, a twisty drive south of the Oregon border. On the outside, the place reflects the local history, but lacks the local character of rusty cars and cast off washing machines. This is a place where generations have gathered to celebrate family holidays and summer vacations. It is a place that transforms each year from a family retreat to Steelhead camp when the cooler weather of fall draws the wild fish home.

Inside Upsondowns you will find a warm, welcoming fishing lodge atmosphere where both wet dogs and waders dry off by the fire. Decades of history adorn the walls in an eclectic collection of art, taxidermy and family photos. An old-school rotary phone hanging on the wall is your only connection to the outside world, and that's just fine. Time slows at Upsondowns and peace echoes from the walls and rafters.

While comparatively diminutive in size, Klamath Steelhead are game fighters and crush a well-swung fly. Buggy patterns are the rule, but the fish seem to take almost anything offered. Classics like Silver Hiltons or new-age Klamath Intruders produce grabs when presented to willing fish. Dry lines are productive, but sink-tips help during a sunny day when fish hold in deeper water. Lighter Micro-Spey rods in 4 and 5 weight are perfect on the Klamath and seem designed for this stream.

Over the years, I've caught Steelhead all up and down the west coast, but the Klamath fish are unusual in their shape and coloration. They seem to carry their weight in their shoulders and look much like bulked up bodybuilders wrapped in a silver cape. Some fish are heavily marked with spots while others sport a blinding mirror-like finish. On the grab, one never knows if a "half-pounder" or "adult" will come to hand as they smash the fly with the aggressiveness found in wild native fish. Wild fish that will soon find their home waters to flow cooler and cleaner as three dams are scheduled to come down in the near future.

Hopefully, I'll get the chance to see that day and fish in a river reborn. My bags are packed.

A graduation of sorts was held this past weekend on the banks of the Deschutes River. The group of Reed College students who had endured 7 weeks of a graying instructor teaching them the Art and Science of Fly Fishing finally got to put their newfound skills to the test. They rose early on Sunday morning, putting aside their much-needed sleep, social calendars, and electronic navigational aids to follow their instincts and a good map to the river.

These dedicated students braved wet highways, towering mountain passes and hurricane force winds to bask in the glow of accomplishment as they made their first casts on the waters of this famous river. They put in practice the skills they learn, finding out that there was still far to go in their education. Tentative steps on slippery rocks slowly became more confident as the day pressed on. Casts reached farther and the smiles grew wider with the realization that this experience was adding to their life resume. No matter what path the future held for them in their academic or business careers, they would forever be known as anglers.

You may find this hard to believe, but all across our state fly rods are being ceremoniously tucked away for the winter. It seems that for some anglers the end of the season comes with the turning of a calendar page and is tied more to tradition than reality. While the restraints of winter weather may preclude some adventures during the colder months, there are still many positive distractions available to the dedicated...

As we wait for additional rain to draw fresh winter Steelhead home, the precipitation we received this past week has had a positively influenced east-side streams. Unfortunately, the unstable weather of fall tends to bring pressure differences that transform gentle breezes into gale-force winds. These blustery conditions materialize this past weekend on the Deschutes and John Day providing quite the challenge for those swinging for the last of our summer fish. With the wind forecast dropping under 10 mph this weekend, it would be worth the drive.

Meanwhile, winter tactic Trout fishing fever has taken hold in the shop and the team has been spending more time creating BWO imitations than winter Steelhead box fillers. This recent uptick in Trout interest is due in part to the infectious enthusiasm shown by the Reed College students we hosted this past week. Daily discussions on the attributes of hook styles, tippet material, and Euro nymphing rods have overshadowed evaluations of grain-weight windows and sink-tips. This is a refreshing change of pace for fall/winter, but I'm sure when the first rumors of winter chrome echo in the shop the guys will be layering up and swinging again.

Until then, the Fly Czar has restocked the bins with some of our most productive patterns. Whitefish and Redsides have been recently fooled by this fresh collection of Baetis and Caddis imitations as we field tested them on the Deschutes.

During the aforementioned jaunt to the river with the Reed College class, we utilized three different rigging techniques. All three caught fish, but small nymphs fished deep during the full sun hours produced the best. The high winds and pressure change probably had something to do with that, but we'll retest that theory this weekend. October Caddis are still flitting about in addition to the hatches of BWOs and tan Caddis, so ask Josh for his OC Special.

I will admit to being more enthusiastic about haunting the banks of the Metolius this winter after she served me a large helping of humble pie during the Trout-a-thon. Look to see me trekking through the snow this winter as I practice for next year's event. Mayflies, Caddis and floating Kokanee carcasses are currently providing protein for the residents. Whitefish spawn is also something to consider this time of year as they cuddle up to reproduce.

The weather may get a little more challenging for some, but layer up and get out there. You have a few weeks to train for our Black Friday Fish-a-long so get to it! You want to be in top form for this event!

This week the fishing report is being preempted by a travel log of my efforts on the Last Cast Native Trout-a-thon. As I never was much of a runner or jogger, an actual marathon would never be on my list of things to do. A Trout Bum road trip, on the other hand, is right in my wheelhouse and I took on the challenge of the Trout-a-thon with a focus garnered from years of planning such an adventure.

First, you should know the idea for this event came to me at 3:30 in the morning as most of my silly ideas do. I got up, wrote out the concept, and sent it to several of my friends at Trout Unlimited and the Native Fish Society at that very early hour. The plan was simple:

Bring awareness to the general population of the importance of wild native Trout to our society and our world.

Challenge local anglers to discover native Trout species they may not have known about.

Encourage local anglers to explore more of their state and its waterways.

Raise money for restoration projects to benefit native Trout.

Have fun.

Since I wanted to participate and not oversee this event I passed the idea off to TU and NFS and acted as a consultant. Then I started making my plan.

The first order of business was to choose the species and their home-water that would score the most points. Then I determined the best driving route to be on location at the optimal time thus maximizing my success. Understanding the odds and setting a time limit on the effort for each location would hopefully lead to accumulating enough points to take home the title. After several revisions, I made a plan and fished the plan.

Appropriately, my day started at 3:30 on Saturday morning when I got up, tossed a few extras into the 4Runner and headed to the Deschutes.

The number one target on my list was a wild native Steelhead and the 15 points it would tally. It was also the species I was most concerned about. Given the current state of the Steelhead population in the Columbia basin, finding and landing a wild Steelhead on demand would be only slightly more likely than finding a hundred-dollar bill in the couch cushions at a Motel 6. Add to the fact that the Deschutes has a larger population of hatchery fish and you can see why I was concerned.

The odds of scoring a wild fish would have been better on the John Day, but the chance to add a Redband Rainbow and Whitefish, both 10 points, made the choice of starting this adventure on the Deschutes easy. The Deschutes was a target rich environment; if I didn't score a Steelhead, I could always focus on Redsides and Whiteys. At least I'd score points.

Having swung flies on the Deschutes since the 70s I have a few places up and down the river that stick out when it comes to encounters with Steelhead. I needed a place I could get to by first light and close enough to the highway as to allow a timely transition to my next target watershed. I picked the spot and hoped that no one else had the same idea.

Daylight came slowly as clouds prolonged the night. At 6:51 AM the phone in my backpack buzzed with a “Good Luck!!” text message from Tracy at the Native Fish Society. I thanked her and slipped the phone back in the pack and waited for enough light to fish.
My first cast touched the water a few minutes after 7:00, but I didn’t work down the run until I could see the line clearly on the surface. Keeping close to the bank to maximize the swing I worked down to where I expected the fish to be. When the fly swung through my perceived bucket there was a light tug on the fly, followed by another. The fly continued swinging but was intercepted again, this time a little more enthusiastically. One last jolting grab and the game was on.

From the hook set, it was obvious that this was the holy grail of Trout-a-thon fish, a wild native Steelhead. The fish ran frantically for the tail-out, but I was able to turn it back by easing on additional pressure. It then turned and charged straight at me, breaking the surface in an aerial display that gave me a brief glimpse of its adipose fin as it reentered the water. Now I was nervous.

After a few tense minutes, I was finally able to slide the fish towards shore and slip my net under its powerful body. A quick photograph to record the catch and prove its wild origins, then a gentle release to continue on its journey.

I must have looked crazy to the unknowing observer as I tossed my Spey rod into the grass and sprinted for my Trout rod as the Steelhead made its way back into the current. I dropped in at the head of the run and start to cover the water with a Silvey’s Super Sinker and a Perdigone dropper tied by Mike McCoy. Recent Czech nymphing experiences have increased my faith in this technique to produce quick results. In a few casts, a scrappy Redside lay in my net followed minutes later by a chunky Whitefish. It was time to move on to the next target. I checked my watch, and it was 8:30 by the time I was out of my waders and heading up Hwy 197 towards Antelope.

A couple years ago I had been infatuated with the idea of finding a healthy population of West Slope Cutthroat in Oregon. I spent hours pouring over maps and documents before settling on two watersheds to investigate. During an unusually good water year, I mounted an expedition to see if my research was correct and check a West Slope Cutty off my list of Oregon species. I found a short section of stream in one watershed where the gradient allowed for pools and riffles. There I found my Cutthroat living happily as they had for hundreds of years. I was now counting on them to still be there.

After hours on winding back roads and highways, I made my way up the rough trail to my destination. As I approach the stream I rolled down the window to listen for the sound of water. All was silent. I worried that my efforts would be met with a dry creek bed and a very long drive to the Metolius. I continued on and finally arrived at the GPS coordinates I had saved only to find my worst fears had come true. The creek was a shadow of its former self and trickled through the rocks and boulders without much fanfare. I was deflated.

Rain wept from the low-hanging clouds that encircled the mountaintop. I grabbed a jacket and headed into the brush to see if there was a pool or riffle that might hold a fish. I hiked upstream only to find my path blocked by a downed tree, its branches making an impenetrable barrier to any progress in that direction. I turned and headed downstream, quickening my pace as I saw my efforts slipping away. Suddenly ahead I could hear the sound of water falling into a plunge pool. I pushed through the brush and came upon a Cutthroat oasis in the middle of a dry landscape.

Back at the 4Runner I pulled my vintage Winston 4 wt. from the rod rack and grabbed my net, camera and a box of flies. Retracing my steps I once again pushed through the brush and took a position below the pool. There was no room to cast and only a small part of the pool that could offer any cover for a hungry Trout. With the fly in my left hand, I bent the rod back and fired a “bow and arrow” cast to the head of the pool. The little foam Humpy drifted about a foot and was engulfed by a fat West Slope Cutty. He knew his home waters well and raced for the cover of an exposed tree root. Carefully I guided him through the tangles and into my net. A quick photo and he was gently released, no worse for the experience.

I broke down my rod as I made my way back to the truck, arriving slightly damp from rain and perspiration. I peeled off my jacket and made a sandwich to fortify me for the long drive ahead. I now had 55 points on the board and over a three-hour drive to figure out my next move.

Night had descended on Sisters and a much-needed rain was dampening the streets. I fueled up the rig at the Chevron station and pulled into a parking lot to file an email report with my sponsors and post a few photos to my Instagram account. I would be out of communication once I made the turn to Camp Sherman, so I checked in at home and headed down the highway. It was now time to find a camp spot on the Metolius and get some rest.

The rain had splattered on the roof of my tent during the night, but the morning was dry and overcast. I broke camp, slid into my waders and grabbed my Bull Trout rod. The prize was in sight. I would score quickly and head toward the coast. I would be casting for Sea-runs before mid-afternoon and dining on clam chowder as the sun set in the west to mark the end of this adventure.

About this time the wheels came off the bus. I hiked upriver and down, unable to find a fish willing to grab my feathery offerings. I switched to a hunting mode and stalked the shore looking for targets in the cold clear water. All of my unusual spots were empty, and others held fish that charged the fly but backed off and lost interest. Two large fish connected briefly, but retired deeper into the pool, refusing to be tempted again. I watched one fish charge at my fly only to veer off at the last second and destroy a floating Kokanee carcass. Leaving a cloud of fleshy debris to drift off, adding decomposing nutrients to the river. The giant satisfied now settle into his place in the pool and ignored my offerings.

Bent, but not broken I changed my tactics and went to focus on improving my Redband and Whitey score by finding a couple of bigger fish. I ran into an old friend that I hadn’t seen in years and we stopped and visited for a while. It was clear that a Bull Trout was not to be, so I relaxed and took in the beauty of the river, and enjoyed a conversation with a friend. Soon we parted, and I grabbed my Trout rod and stepped into the pool. Two casts and the line twitched, and I set the hook. Expecting a large Whitefish to break the surface, imagine my surprise to see a foot long Bull Trout putting the bend in my rod. The net flashed, and a photo was quickly taken. The little Bull Trout rejoined the rest of the fish in the pool and I headed to the truck.

Time was no longer on my side. My watch told me I wouldn’t be able to make it to the coast, and even a shot at the Santiam was in question. A traffic jam on the pass ended those hopes so I head home and pulled into my driveway 42 hours from when I left. I had driven 651 miles, caught 5 different species of native salmonids, scored 70 points and had a fairly dirty ride to show for my efforts. Was it worth it? Yup. I’m already making plans for next year. You should join me.

UPDATED!!!

I'm happy to report that in this past weekend's Last Cast Native Trout-a-thon yours truly cleaned up in the prize department taking top honors for most points, biggest fish and most money raised. This is great news for all of you who sponsored my efforts and donated $3885 to the North Creek Campaign through the Native Fish Society. I'll be raffling off all the prizes and adding a hosted trip on the Metolius to the collection. Of course, after reading the report of the adventure above you might want to rethink spending the day on the river with me.

In any case, once all the donations have been gathered I'll be holding a raffle and announcing the winners here in the newsletter and on Facebook/Instagram. The prizes to be raffled off include:

Guided trip with Kyle Smith on the McKenzie. WINNER: JK Hussa

Guided trip for two with Mark Sherwood on the Rogue. WINNER: Rocky Dixon